


Catharsis

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, M/M, hurt-comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-24
Updated: 2007-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Lionel marries Martha, Clark's attempt to deal with his hurt leads him to a compromising situation that ends up having surprising results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catharsis

## Catharsis

by Hope Roy

[]()

* * *

Clark's mother was stunning in her white wedding dress. Her red hair was twisted up behind her head in an intricate knot of curls that flattered her face and make her look stunningly young. Every bit of makeup was tasteful and well done, almost making her glow. 

Part of Clark wanted to take off running--maybe never come back. He'd done that before, after all, and only the memories of the consequences were stopping him from doing it now. 

His mother must have known something was wrong, because when the limo stopped, she looked over at him with a trace of sadness. "Oh, Clark," she said with a sigh, reaching up to gently cup his face. 

He shook his head. "Don't worry about me right now, Mom," he forced himself to say. "This is your day." He was proud of how it sounded as if he meant it, too, and he must have been convincing (or maybe she was just that distracted) because she smiled at him, nodded, and got out of the limo. 

Clark hadn't thought that the son was supposed to ride to the wedding with his mother, but his mother had insisted that she wanted it to be just the two of them. Clark didn't want to think about how this would be the last time that such an event would occur. 

The church rose up before him, grand and beautiful, seeming to swallow up his mother as she went inside. It was symbolic of a world he wasn't a part of. His father never could have afforded this, he thought bitterly, and somehow that grated on his nerves like nothing else. 

Actually, everything that Lionel did seemed to grate on his nerves. Everything appeared to be about giving her more than she'd had in Smallville. 

It was all about giving her more than what Jonathan Kent could ever have. 

"Big, isn't it?" a cold voice said from behind him. 

Clark turned around to find Lex standing there. Lana was on his arm, looking slightly uncomfortable. Clark felt something in his stomach clench; Lex was not who he wanted to face right now. Fate wasn't kind enough to allow him that small reprieve, however, so Clark narrowed his eyes slightly. "Yes, it is," he finally answered. 

Lex smiled coolly, and Clark could almost feel his gaze cutting through him. That really didn't surprise him; Lex had always possessed a way of making him feel nervous. 

"You know, I'm surprised that your mother agreed to this," he added smoothly, his eyes never leaving Clark's face. Out of the corner of his eye, Clark could see how uncomfortable Lana looked--almost ashamed of Lex's behavior. 

Clark felt himself bristle, and only extreme force of will kept him from taking a swing at Lex. "This wasn't a business transaction," he said softly. "Marriage is supposed to be about love." The last bit was thrown in as a hint at Lex's past marriages, and Clark hoped he'd caught that. 

From the annoyed look on Lex's face, it seemed that he had. "For idealistic people, maybe," he countered with a small smile. 

"Lex, let's go." 

Clark was surprised at how cold and annoyed Lana's voice was. Her eyes were no different as she fixed Lex with an icy stare--if anything, they showed even more of her irritation. The way she touched his arm to pull him away was almost as if they weren't really touching at all. 

"I'm sorry," she mouthed over her shoulder to Clark as Lex finally brushed passed him--though not before shooting Clark one more cocky look--and headed towards the church. 

Clark was left standing outside, looking at the place where he was about to lose any normalcy he had left in his life. 

* * *

Clark could feel his stomach churning. Seeing his mother holding Lionel's hand, saying her vows--it almost made him sick. Some part of him almost wished that it had, because then he'd at least have had a chance to leave. 

He wasn't quite sure how this could have happened, and as he watched his mother, he found that everything seemed rather surreal. This was like a dream (or rather a nightmare), and he shuddered to think how he was going to feel when he woke up. 

Lex was standing next to him, and it was a small comfort to Clark that he knew Lex didn't want to be there either. Originally, Clark was going to be the best man (a thought which hadn't thrilled him), but Martha had protested that since Lex was Lionel's son, it would have been wrong not to include him. Clark barely hid his grimace when he thought of all her talks about being a family. 

Clark tuned back in to the ceremony just in time to hear the minister pronounce his mother and Lionel husband and wife. The lip lock that followed wasn't to his taste, either, because the only man his mother should ever be kissing was Jonathan Kent. 

Lois, who had been his mother's bridesmaid along with a woman named Lisa, a friend Martha had met in the senate, suddenly appeared at Clark's side. "We have to stay for photos, Smallville," she told him. 

He nodded. She was right up there with Lex on his list of people that he least wanted to talk to at the moment, and he wasn't in the mood for her brash attitude. 

"Look, Clark, this is your mother's day, and you could at least try to look a little happy, all right?" 

"Lois?" he asked through clenched teeth. 

"Yeah?" she asked as they moved off the stage together. 

"Did your dad ever re-marry after your mom died?" 

She looked at him as if he were crazy. "No, you know--" 

"Then shut the hell up," he snapped before he walked away from her. He knew it wasn't very nice, but at the moment he couldn't find it in himself to care. 

"Clark, honey!" his mom's voice rang out as she called to him from across the sanctuary. 

He was halfway down the isle, though he really didn't know where he even had planned to go. He'd just wanted to be somewhere--anywhere--but here. Still, Lois had been right when she'd said that this was his mother's day. So, grudgingly, he turned around to face her. 

"Yeah, Mom?" he called back, trying to ignore how Lionel had an arm around his mother's waist, because only his father should have been able to touch her like that. 

"We have to take photos," she told him brightly. 

Lois was still looking a bit flustered as Clark returned to the stage to stand beside her. Lex gave him a glance, too, and Clark was a bit astonished when he thought he saw a bit of worry there. Was he really that transparent or was he just imagining things? 

The first few pictures were of his mother and Lionel, looking like the quintessential happy married couple. After that she insisted on a mother-son picture. Clark tried his best to smile and look happy, and he thought he might have achieved that with marginal success. He was pretty sure he did okay on the one with Lois and Lisa, as well as the one with just Lois. It wasn't until he had to stand with Lex that faking things became very hard. 

Lex, true to form, was stoic and cold, not showing a drop of emotion. For all of the feelings he was showing he might as well have been posing for the press. Clark hated to think what _he_ looked like, though. 

Once pictures were done, they all filed out of the church, heading for the reception hall. Lionel had rented a huge space in one of the classiest restaurants in Metropolis. Clark was sure it would only make him feel even more out of place. 

The limo was fairly crowded, and Clark was stuck between Lois and Lex. Lois, after his burst of temper, had seemed to mellow out on the scolding, and she'd actually become tolerable. All through the ride, his mother kept shooting him worried looks, and though Clark tried his best to act normal, he felt as if he were crumbling from within. 

He hadn't thought it was possible to hurt so much. Every time he looked at his mother and Lionel together, he couldn't help picturing his father. His father would be rolling over in his grave if he knew what his wife had done, and Clark wasn't sure how his mother was justifying that in her own mind. Maybe she was telling herself that Lionel had changed, but Clark didn't think that he'd changed _that_ much. 

"Clark," Lex said from beside him. "We're here." 

He glanced up from where he'd been staring at the floor. Everyone had gotten out of the limo except for them, and he realized how foolish he must look. "Sorry," he mumbled, making a move to brush past Lex. 

Lex grabbed his arm. "Are you all right?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned. 

It seemed so strange to see sincere compassion on Lex's face, especially directed towards him. It was something that he'd missed over the past year, and he hadn't expected to see it again. He really didn't want Lex to see how much it shook him, though, so he only nodded. 

Lex, seeming to sense that he didn't want to talk, let him go. Outside the limo, Clark straightened and headed towards the skyscraper in front of him. The others had gone on ahead, and so he was left with Lex. 

They said nothing at first, only walking past security and into the building until they reached the elevator. Clark didn't think he'd ever get used to being able to so easily bypass security--at least not legally. 

"Seems strange, doesn't it?" Lex asked, his voice once again guarded and cool. 

Clark watched as he pressed the up button. "What?" he asked, though he was fairly sure he knew exactly what Lex was talking about. 

"Having people know you just because of your name or who you're related to. Get used to it, Clark, because your inconspicuous life is over." 

Clark was sure he had to have imagined Lex's worry in the limo. Or maybe it had been real and Lex was just playing with him again, trying to get him to show his hand or spill how he was feeling. It didn't really matter to Clark what Lex's reasons were anymore, because, reasons or not, his cool indifference still hurt. 

"Well, at least I got to experience it," he countered, trying to keep his voice even. He knew he was no where near as good at it as Lex, but it didn't stop him from trying. 

"And you don't know how to deal with things now that it's gone," Lex added smugly. 

"If that's your way of saying that I'm not as adept as you at cheating people and talking in circles to the press--well, you'd be right. I'd rather not be, either, thanks." 

Lex laughed. "What are you going to do the first time a reporter shoves a microphone in your face and asks if your mother was having an affair with my father back when he was blind and she was his assistant?" 

"Is that a real question, or are you just trying to get a rise out of me?" Clark asked sourly. He'd never been happier to hear the elevators ding and then to see it open its doors. 

Lex only gave him a guarded smile and stepped past him into the full of people. Clark stared at his back, furiously wishing that he could simply set Lex on fire. Unfortunately, since he couldn't, he stepped into the room of people beyond, all the while trying not to contemplate the life that he'd lost 

* * *

The food at the reception was absolutely scrumptious, but Clark found that the alcohol was even better. He'd never really seriously applied himself to getting drunk, but he was beginning to wonder if he could with some serious dedication. Or, if that didn't work, perhaps he could just get some tiny meteor rock fragments and swallow those with the booze. 

The idea was beginning to seriously appeal to him, because he'd never felt like he needed an escape more. He'd considered Red K, but he didn't think he wanted to wake up to hear the breaking news of how Lex or Lionel had been found dead. 

So, alcohol it would be. Now was not a good time to try to get drunk--there were just too many people around, and he shuddered when he thought about the things that he might say. That was okay, though, because his mother and Lionel were leaving for their honeymoon that night, and so he'd be alone in the penthouse. 

He made it through the reception all right until someone started tapping their silverware against their glass. And then, with a huge smile, his mother had leaned over to kiss Lionel. He'd wanted to die on the spot. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, the reception was over, everyone had offered their congratulations, and Lionel and his mother were preparing to leave. The Luthorcorp jet was already loaded, ready to fly to its destination in Germany. His mother had always wished Clark's father could have taken her to Germany, Clark remembered. She'd always wanted to explore all the famous sights. 

Instead she was going with Lionel. 

"Clark? Clark!" 

He snapped around to find his mother studying him with a worried expression. "Honey, are you all right?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. 

"I'm fine," he answered her, working to keep a smile on his face. 

"Look, Clark, things aren't going to be that different. We'll--" 

No, of course not. His mother was only getting married, he was only Lex's stepbrother, and his whole life was only being turned upside down. No, nothing was different at all. 

"Mom, this is your honeymoon," he interrupted her. "I'm nineteen, and I can watch myself for a few days while you're gone. I'll be fine." 

She gave him one last worried look, but said nothing as she drew him into a hug. "I love you, sweetie," she whispered into his ear before pulling away. 

"I love you, too," he told her as she smiled at him and gave him a last comforting touch on the arm. 

"Call Lex if you need anything," she told him. 

Luckily she had turned around before she witnessed the aggravation on his face. 

* * *

Clark, for once, was very happy that there were so many meteor rocks in Smallville. Their abundance made it far too easy to find a few very, very small ones (practically dust, and not big enough to actually make him more than a tiny bit sick.) to stuff in a lead case to bring back to Metropolis. 

Once he was back at the penthouse, he was easily able to open the lead box and dump a bit into a glass of alcohol. Vodka, actually, that he'd bought at the store down the street. There had been stuff at the penthouse, but he hadn't wanted to take any more from the Luthors than he had to. 

It burned going down, and he was unsure as to whether it was because of the rocks or the drink. It churned in his stomach too, and it didn't really make him forget much of anything. 

The second drink was a little better; he could feel the edges of reality blurring. It didn't burn as bad, either, so that was nice. Since his stomach was already churning, he was happy to find that it didn't get any worse with this drink. 

By the third and the forth drink he'd discovered that he had virtually no tolerance for alcohol whatsoever. Apparently, if he lowered his alien defenses, then he was truly just that--defenseless. 

And he couldn't have been happier. 

The only problem was that he could remember that something had made him upset enough to get drunk. Even that was beyond what he wanted to comprehend at the moment. So, he went to pour himself a fifth drink. 

"Clark!" a surprised exclamation came from behind him. "That's vodka. Damn it, that's hard liquor. How many have you had?" 

Clark barely comprehended that someone was asking him a question. Actually, he didn't even know who was asking him a question. He didn't fight the hands on his back, though, and he let himself be turned around. 

"Clark!" 

He was pretty sure it was Lex in front of him, since he didn't know many bald men who would just walk in without knocking. Or maybe Lex had knocked? Huh, everything was starting to sway a little bit. That didn't usually happen, did it? 

His legs became unsteady, and for a moment he thought he was going to fall. Someone caught him, though, and lowered him down gently, even putting a hand under his head to stop it from hitting the ground. 

"Hmm?" he muttered as an arm slipped around him. He didn't like the feeling of being lifted. 

"Damn it, you're heavy," someone--who he thought he remembered as being Lex--grunted out. 

"Mmm," was all he managed to murmur. The soft cushions felt nice under his face, and he turned over into them. 

"What were you thinking?" Lex said, very close to his face, even if Clark didn't feel up to opening his eyes to see just how close he was. 

Suddenly Clark's stomach was churning worse than before, and it felt as though the meteor rocks were coming alive in his stomach. "Bathroom," he managed to gasp out as he shoved himself upright despite the uncooperativeness of his limbs. 

It didn't appear that he really had time to get to the toilet, so he was thankful when he found something being shoved under his face. Someone was pushing his head forward so that he was close to it. It wasn't a second too soon, either, as vomit spilled from his mouth into the container right after it was positioned in front of him. The vomit burned his throat as it came up, and he could feel his eyes water. 

This, he realized, was what if felt like to be truly sick. 

"Clark, what's in this? Are those meteor rocks?" 

He didn't have enough energy to really respond properly to the incredulous sounding voice. "Mmmhmm," he slurred. Because what did it really matter anyway? Normal people did crack, he used meteor rocks. 

"What the hell is this?" Lex shouted. Clark couldn't help but flinch, because Lex's voice was _really_ loud. "Is this a suicide attempt?" 

Clark shook his head, but apparently that wasn't enough. He just really didn't have the energy to answer, though. And how did Lex know that the rocks could kill him? How did Lex even know about the rocks? 

"I want an answer, Clark!" Lex demanded. 

Clark murmured something that was unintelligible even to himself, right before he squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut. The pillows on the couch were soft, and he kind of liked the way they felt on his cheek. Pillows were nice to sleep on. Lex had better leave him alone so he could sleep. 

That idea became quite unlikely when a stinging smack landed on his cheek. He jerked back at the sting, not liking the feel of that. And, for some reason, Lex was holding his head up, his hands clenched in what felt to Clark like an iron grip. 

"G'off, Lex," he managed to mutter. His movements were embarrassingly uncoordinated as he made a move to shove Lex away from him. 

Lex refused to let him go, and instead gave him a hard shake. "Open your damn eyes and tell me whether or not this was a suicide attempt," Lex ordered. 

Clark just wanted Lex to leave him alone to sleep, so he opened his eyes just a crack and forced himself to choke out, "No." 

It amazed him that Lex actually looked relieved at that, although it could be that Clark was just really drunk and imagining things. So drunk in fact, that he vomited again. Briefly there were flashes of green in front of his face--the meteor rocks, he assumed--before he closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows. 

"Stay right there while I get you some water." 

Only Lex could manage to sound that hostile while he was taking care of someone. And, really, why was Lex even taking care of him at all? Lex hated him, didn't he? Why would he care if Clark killed himself? 

The sound of footsteps announced Lex's return, and then there was a glass pressed against his lips. The water felt blessedly cool as he swallowed it. When Lex pulled it away, Clark was completely convinced that Lex was a pure sadist. 

"Too much will just make you feel sicker," Lex explained as Clark reached out to grab the glass back. 

For a few minutes they sat in silence. It was nice, Clark thought, especially when he realized that he needed to vomit again. "Lex, I've got to--" 

There was immediately something under his face again, and Clark threw up in it, not particularly caring what it was. He was embarrassed that, when he'd stopped retching, he moaned slightly. He should not be letting Lex see this part of him. It wasn't like it was his fault, though, because Lex wasn't supposed to care enough to even be here. 

Strangely enough, it seemed that he'd gotten most of the meteor rocks out on that last session of vomiting, and so he was beginning to feel better. Maybe the water had helped to clean his stomach out a bit. Either way, he was feeling more coherent--which could or could not be a good thing. 

Because of his own stupid curiosity, he looked over at Lex. It was kind of unnerving to find Lex staring right back at him. 

"Why'd you do this, Clark?" he asked seriously, his voice cold. Clark hated the disappointment he found there, even if he didn't know why. He really shouldn't care about what Lex thought anymore. 

"Don't have... to tell you," he told Lex weakly. He felt better, yes, but everything was still muddled and foggy. And he was so tired, too. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. 

"If you don't talk to me then I'm calling your mother." 

"On her honeymoon," he murmured without opening his eyes. 

"So imagine how displeased she'd be if she got a call from me, telling her that her son was lying on my couch, totally and utterly drunk. You'd have a great time explaining that, I bet." 

"Go to... hell." Couldn't Lex just leave him alone and let him sleep? 

Apparently not, as a cell phone was quickly shoved in his face. "Stay awake," Lex ordered him. 

Begrudgingly he forced himself to do so, and even though his vision was hazy, he was able to make out the number of his mother's cell phone. It seemed Lex wasn't letting him take the easy way out. 

"So, I'll ask you again. Why did you do this?" 

He was too tired to bother fighting anymore. And, hey, maybe if he told Lex then Lex would leave him alone and let him sleep. "It hurt." 

"What hurt?" 

"Everything." 

"You're going to have to be more specific than that," Lex told him with obvious irritation. 

"I don't," he said simply, because he couldn't make it _too_ easy for Lex. And besides, it wasn't like Lex really cared. No one really cared how he felt anymore. His mom had Lionel, Chloe had Jimmy, Lois had Oliver, and Lex... Lex had Lana--which was a terror in itself. 

"Do you really want to find out if I'll make that call?" 

"Why do you even--" he started, but his voice trailed off. When had simply existing become so tiring? 

"Why do I even what, Clark?" 

"Pretend to care." 

There was silence for a moment after that, and Clark was beginning to think that he'd at least earned a night-long reprieve. That, of course, was before Lex's hands were yanking him into a sitting position. 

The world spun around him, and he quickly decided that changing position was not a good thing. No, it was a very, very bad thing. 

"This is your last chance, Clark. Why did you do this?" 

Clark licked his lips, which felt very dry. "Because he--he shouldn't be allowed to marry her." 

"While I agree that your mother's taste could have been better, she's certainly allowed to choose to marry anyone she wants." 

Clark wondered if a normal human who got drunk usually acted like this. He hoped not, because he wouldn't wish the experience on anyone. 

"My Dad--only one who should be allowed." Yes, he knew that wasn't clear, and, no, he didn't care. Lex could deal with it. 

"Oh." Clark was shocked to hear the comprehension and pity in that one word. 

"She shouldn't have worked for him in the first place," he managed to choke out, his throat constricting as his long-buried fears welled up inside of him. He couldn't seem to suppress them either, because now that they'd gotten so close to coming out, it was as if they were determined to do so. "The baby she lost--Mom couldn't have babies, but what if it was Dad who couldn't, and--and--" He hoped Lex would understand that he was talking about when his mother had become pregnant again when he was a Sophomore in high school, because he just didn't have the energy to make his explanation clearer. 

Lex's slight intake of breath was subtle, but Clark could hear the surprise that it held. Apparently Lex hadn't expected that answer from him. "No, Clark, your mom loved your father. She didn't.... Trust me on this--she never had an affair with my father." 

There was something warm on his cheeks and he thought it might have been tears. This was all so wrong, and everything felt messed up, because Lex shouldn't care. Lex should be happy that he was hurting. Lex was the one who was always trying to hurt him. 

"And your father--he was there that night. W-what if he did something?" He still remembered what it felt like when Chloe had told him that Lionel Luthor was probably the last person to see his father. Even now it made his stomach churn to think about it, which really wasn't a good thing, considering he was still slightly nauseas. 

"No, Clark, the circumstances weren't right. My father didn't kill Jonathan Kent." 

"And she doesn't care anymore. Dad--she doesn't remember him right. She doesn't remember what I want. Everyone's got someone--everyone has... someone to care about them. I don't--no one." 

"That's not true, Clark," Lex said with a sigh. "It's not." 

"You... don't," he protested weakly as he snuggled into the pillows. Because he wouldn't let himself believe that Lex did care about him. Lex wasn't here because he cared that Clark was hurting, and Clark wouldn't let himself believe differently. He wouldn't set himself up for that kind of disappointment. "You hate me." 

Lex sighed heavily. "No, Clark, I could never hate you. I hate that you seemed to have joined forces with my father, and I hate that you seem to think that I'm the spawn of Satan. But hate you? No, Clark, I don't hate you." 

"I never--not your father. I didn't like him, but he could help, and he knew. I couldn't not--I--he'd hurt me." 

"Knew what?" Lex's voice had suddenly become steely cold again. 

"Me--'bout me." 

"What about you?" 

"Please don't push, Lex," Clark mumbled sadly as he felt himself beginning to drift off to sleep again. "Not tonight." 

There was silence for a moment, and then another sigh. "Get some sleep," Lex told him after a moment. 

Clark was already way ahead of that command. 

* * *

Clark was pretty sure that when one was just waking up from a night of intense drinking, they were supposed to be at least a little hung over. He was also pretty certain that it wasn't normal to just feel, well, _fine_. 

The couch was apparently pretty comfortable, and at some point a heavy comforter had found its way over him. Somehow a fluffy down pillow had also gotten under his head. The only issue was that when he shifted, he found that he was shirtless. When had that happened? 

"Well, you're looking significantly better this morning." 

The voice surprised Clark, and he quickly spun around to where the voice had come from. Lex was sitting at a table in the kitchen, which still had two vodka bottles sitting on it. From the cold smile on Lex's face, Clark knew he wasn't going to get out of this easily. 

"What are you doing here?" he immediately found himself demanding. It wasn't the nicest thing, he knew, because Lex had at least made sure he didn't die of alcohol poisoning the previous night. Yet, it was like a knee jerk reaction--seeing Lex brought that out of him. 

Lex's face fell into a mockingly contemplative expression. "Imagine my surprise when I came to your apartment last night to find you beyond drunk. Actually, I'm sure that if you weren't 'special' then you'd probably be in the hospital with alcohol poisoning this morning." 

"I'm not 'special'," Clark whispered venomously. "And I'm obviously alive, so I'd prefer it if you leave." 

Lex laughed. "You actually think that after spending last night holding a bucket under your face, I'd just leave? I want some answers, Clark. Because while I don't think that you tried to commit suicide, I'm not certain that if you do this again you won't get yourself killed." 

"And you'd care?" Clark snapped as he crawled out from under the blankets. "I would have thought that you'd be the one leading the dancing on my grave." 

Clark was thrown for a loop when Lex only smiled at him, though his expression was as much steel as it was a smile. "I'm going to give you the same advice my father gave me when I lost my hair: Stop pitying yourself." 

"You don't know a thing about my life," Clark spat at him vehemently. "You don't know me anymore, and I don't want your advice. Now get out." 

"Actually, Clark, I own this penthouse. I let my father live in it because he's an employee, and because I prefer the castle in Smallville." 

Clark started at him for a moment, seriously contemplating setting Lex on fire with his heat vision. He should have known that Lex taking care of him was just another chance for him to dig in hopes of finding information. 

"Then I'll leave," he said finally. Not waiting for Lex's reply, Clark went over to where he'd tossed his duffle bag and began to rummage through it until he found a shirt. 

"You're not going anywhere," Lex said simply, leaning back in his chair. "At least not until I get some answers." 

Clark slipped the shirt over his head, picked up the duffle bag and started for the doors. "I don't take orders from you," he said firmly. 

"Turn around and sit back down at this table, or you can be sure you'll be getting a call from what I assume will be your very concerned mother." 

Clark froze before turning around to fix Lex with an incredulous stare. "Do you ever just stand and fight like a man, Lex? Or is everything for you lies and manipulation?" 

Lex rolled his eyes. "That's you're problem, Clark: You're so melodramatic. And by standing and fighting, do you mean a fistfight? Are you truly asking me why I'd rather not try that with you? Because, if you are, then I'll give you an answer, but I don't think you'll like it." 

"You're a coward," Clark whispered, though he didn't head back for the door. 

"I don't feel like punching the equivalent of steel," Lex deadpanned, completely ignoring Clark's comments. 

Clark's throat suddenly felt very dry, as if he'd swallowed something very large that had lodged in his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about," he managed to choke out. 

"If I'd really wanted to hurt you, then you'd be in a lab right now, Clark," Lex informed him casually, his gaze never wavering from Clark's face. "Do you realize that the mansion has security cameras? I've known you're different from day one, and I have evidence to prove it. I may not know all of what you are, but you can be certain that I've got enough information to do some serious damage." 

Clark didn't know what to do. On one hand, he felt like turning tail and running, while on the other hand, he knew that he had to hold his ground. But the fact that Lex knew--it was terrifying, because that gave Lex power over him. 

"We may not be getting along right now, but I'm not out to hurt you," Lex told him after a moment. 

"Every time you see me, you go out of your way to make sure I know that you have everything that I don't," Clark pointed out, aware that his tone was dropping in pure anger. He didn't believe for one moment that Lex truly didn't want to hurt him. 

"And yet, I obviously don't hate you enough to get you tossed into a lab. Strange, given the insatiable curiosity that you accuse me of possessing." 

"What do you want?" Clark demanded. 

"I want to know what would make you so scared that you'd get yourself drunk." 

"And I want to know why you even care," Clark countered. He wasn't spilling his guts unless Lex did. 

Lex looked at him with an almost sad expression as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "I care, Clark. Did you know that I was actually coming to talk to you? I was going to try to extend yet another olive branch, though I've no doubt that it would have been just as ineffective as the rest." 

Clark narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Then you obviously want something. The man you've turned into doesn't do anything without an ulterior motive." 

"I broke up with Lana," Lex revealed suddenly. His eyes still hadn't wavered from Clark's face. "Actually, she broke up with me. It was for the best, I think." 

"Too much work to have to constantly deceive her?" Clark asked bitterly. It wasn't exactly a shot at Lex--it was actually more like he was sympathizing with him. Clark knew what it was like to deceive the ones you loved. 

"You've yet to tell me why I found you in the state that I did," Lex pointed out, ignoring his question. 

Clark finally moved over to the table and sat down with Lex. "I may have been drunk, but I remember everything that I told you." 

"You really thought that my father and your mother might have had an affair?" Lex asked. 

Clark couldn't detect any animosity in the question, so he simply nodded. He'd told Lex that the night before, so what did he have to lose now? 

"I don't think that's true, Clark." 

"She couldn't get pregnant," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "At least not with Dad. But what if it wasn't Mom that couldn't get pregnant, but Dad who couldn't get her pregnant?" 

"I don't think it ever happened. Still, that's only my speculations," Lex told him. 

"I didn't want her to marry him," Clark admitted. He really couldn't believe he was telling Lex this stuff, but somehow it felt so easy to just slip back into their old routine. "It was too soon. Every time your dad came into my house, I can could see him standing where my father should have be. I guess the worst part is that my mom lets him. It's as if she's forgotten Dad." 

"I don't think your mom will ever forget you dad, Clark," Lex assured him, watching him carefully. "But people do move on, and I think she's lonely. I also think it's safe to say that while I don't think she cheated on your father, I do think she's always been attracted to my father. She may have repressed those feelings in order to keep her marriage vows. And, you know, I've found that when you repress something it often comes back later in full force. It's possible that her feelings just clouded her judgment." 

They were silent for a moment before Clark finally said, "She's renting out the farm." It almost scared him how emotionless his voice sounded compared to the whirlwind of feelings that was raging inside of him. "She told me the day he proposed. It was in debt anyway, but she told me she just couldn't let it go, so she was going to rent it out. We'd live somewhere else, she said, because her job would be easier if we lived in Metropolis. She never asked me if it was all right. She never asked if I even wanted to live with them--she just told me." 

It felt strange to tell Lex that; he hadn't told anyone yet--not even Chloe. Even so, it felt good to finally have the secret out, because it had been eating away at him like rust to metal. 

"You're not anywhere near ready to live in the same house as them," Lex said with a bitter laugh. 

"I'm nineteen," he declared blankly. "It's not like I'm afraid to live alone. I was going to go away to college, but Dad needed me on the farm, and so I stayed local. And then once he died, I couldn't leave Mom. I dropped out of college because the farm would have failed otherwise. And now she's just cashing it in." 

Clark looked up to find Lex looking at him in a way that could have been interpreted as empathy. "What do you want, Clark?" he asked. "Do you want to be a farmer? Do you want to go to college?" 

Clark shrugged and absentmindedly ran a finger across the edge of the table. "I don't know what I want." 

"Then find out," Lex told him frankly. "Look at this as a blessing; you can do whatever you want with your life now." 

"I want to wake up and know what my life is," he informed Lex sadly. "I'm tired of waking up and knowing that the day is going to hurt." 

"Life does hurt, Clark, and there's not a thing you can do to change that." Lex sighed and paused before saying, "I want you to stay at the mansion for a while." 

Clark immediately bristled. "We're not best friends anymore, Lex! Things aren't like that now!" 

Lex only smiled. "No, they're not. Now, apparently, we're legally brothers. And you know what, Clark? With your grief, I don't trust you not to do something stupid. There's a reason that you shouldn't repress things. And you've obviously been repressing." 

"I'm not coming to live with you," Clark told him defiantly, once again picking up his bag and heading to the door. 

When Lex spoke again, his voice was quiet and full of authority. "I wasn't planning on making it an option." 

* * *

Clark really hadn't wanted to move in with Lex, but Lex hadn't been lying when he'd said he wasn't going to make it an option. A few well placed threats made sure of that, especially considering that they consisted of Lex assuring him that if he wasn't going to allow him to help Clark, then he'd make sure other people (namely his mother and Chloe) were going to know what was going on too. Clark couldn't bear the idea of either of those people knowing about his weakness. 

He was now stuck putting his clothing away in a drawer at the Luthor mansion. Everything was so strange here, and the amount of wealth made Clark feel seriously out of place. 

The outer edges of the window in his room were stained glass, and they cast a strange and colorful glow across his bedspread. That almost seemed to represent his life; it was no longer pure, but rather influenced by other things. He sighed. He wished his window was just pure, clear glass. 

Clark flopped down on his bed, allowing the fading light to wash over him. It was nearly eight o'clock, but Clark wasn't tired. If anything, he was so frustrated that he felt impossibly wired. 

The room Lex had given him was fairly large, but not obscenely so. Like the rest of the mansion, it was characterized by dark wood and a regal air, making it nothing like the welcoming sunny farmhouse. The bed was also of dark wood, complete with a large, imposing headboard. There was a desk on the wall to his right, next to his closet. Across the room from the desk, there was a set of drawers, with a TV on top. 

Clark rolled over, allowing his hands to grip the heavy red bedspread tightly. Everything was turning out to be so confusing and so very frustrating. Why was Lex doing this? They'd spent the last year or so at odds, and yet Lex seemed concerned. Of course, Clark thought that probably meant he had an ulterior motive. 

Completely out of ideas, Clark lay in the bed thinking until the sun went down and he was finally able to fall asleep. 

* * *

"Clark!" his mother called warmly as she exited the Luthorcorp jet. She'd just gotten back from her honeymoon, and was smiling ecstatically as she hurried down the jet's steps to hug her son. "I missed you, sweetie," she told him. 

"I missed you too, Mom," he said honestly. Even if he didn't agree with her decisions, he did miss having her around; she was his mom, and he loved her no matter what. 

"Clark, son, it's good to see you again," Lionel said as he came to stand behind Martha. He too was smiling, and Clark couldn't help but imagine exactly what they'd both done in the week they'd been away. He barely suppressed the grimace that he felt at those thoughts. 

"Lex," Lionel added with a swift nod at his son, who had been standing to Clark's right. 

"You look like you got some sun, Dad," Lex said, though his tone couldn't have been more cold or business-like. 

"Martha insisted on touring many of the outdoor attractions in Germany," Lionel replied, his tone just as stilted. 

From the look on his mom's face, it seemed to Clark as if she was watching the interaction with a sort of sadness. It didn't surprise him. Clark himself had always felt bad about the way Lex and Lionel acted towards each other. 

"It's nice to be home," Martha said after a moment, her smile falsely sunny. 

"Yes," Lionel agreed, glancing at the limo that was waiting to take them to Metropolis. 

"Ready, honey?" Martha asked Clark, rubbing his arm gently as she gestured to the limo. 

"I'm not going," he deadpanned. At the moment he wasn't quite so resentful of that as he had previously been, because the idea of actually having to be in a limo with his mother and Lionel was making him feel sick. Maybe Lex had known what he was talking about. 

"Clark?" Martha asked, her brow furrowing with worry. 

"I'm staying in Smallville," he informed her quietly, unable to meet her eyes. He could feel Lex near him, and that somehow made him uncomfortable, like he wasn't capable of taking care of himself. 

"Oh, Clark," she said sadly. "We already agreed that we'd rent the farm. You can't stay there." 

Clark stiffened, because _they'd_ never _agreed_ to anything. _She_ had _told_ him that the farm was going to be rented out. 

"We never agreed on that at all," he snapped, though he instantly felt bad after. "But I'm not staying there, so it doesn't really matter." 

The way his mother was looking at him made his heart hurt. Her eyes held a mixture of pity and sadness, but there was also firmness there, too. "Clark, I think it would be best if you came to stay, just for a while. I don't like to think of you alone in a rented apartment or something similar. After all, I know how hard this has been on you." 

Lex's voice was a surprise when it cut into the conversation. "Mrs. Kent, may I have a word with you?" 

"I can take care of myself, Lex," Clark hissed, annoyed. He didn't need Lex to fight his battles for him. 

"I don't doubt it, but I'm entitled to talk to your mother if I want to, Clark," Lex replied dryly. "Would you excuse us?" 

Clark sighed and reached down to give his mother a hug. "It's good to have you home, Mom," he murmured. She hugged him back, though she was clearly still confused. When he pulled away from her, he headed back towards his truck, even if he had no intention of shutting out their conversation. He didn't have to wait long, since as soon as he climbed into his truck and pulled out onto the road towards Smallville Lex and his mom started talking. 

"What's this about, Lex?" he heard his mother ask. It pleased Clark that she at least sounded a little annoyed. 

"It's about, Clark, Mrs. Kent," he heard Lex answer. Clark pulled off the road as soon as he was out of sight, leaning back in the seat to listen. 

"I believe we all gathered that," Lionel shot in, sounding quite irked. 

"Is something wrong with my son?" Martha asked worriedly. 

There was a slight pause, and when Lex spoke again his voice was almost disbelieving. "You haven't noticed anything different?" 

"He had a hard time when Jonathan died, but he's gotten better," she replied. 

Lex laughed coldly. "Or maybe you've been too absorbed in _other_ things to notice how much your son needs you. Clark's hurting badly." 

"Lex, don't take this the wrong way, but I doubt Clark is likely to confide in you," Lionel said dryly. 

"He didn't have to tell me anything; it was all right there to see." 

Clark felt his heart clench. He desperately hoped Lex didn't tell his mom about his getting very, very drunk. That would be... beyond what he could handle. 

"Look, Lex, I appreciate your concern, but this is a matter between me and my son," Martha told him in a falsely cheery voice. "I know this marriage was a hard thing for him, but--" 

"You were too caught up in what you were doing to notice just _how_ hard?" Lex suggested. "Clark's not ready for this." 

"Lex, that's enough," Lionel rebuked him, his tone cold. 

There was silence for a moment, and Clark could only imagine the looks that were being given. "The worst thing you could do for Clark at the moment is to have him live in a house with you," Lex said finally. "He'll be home when he's ready." 

Clark could hear Lex's receding footsteps, and he quickly pulled back onto the road. After all, he knew how Lex drove, and he'd prefer that he arrived back at the mansion before Lex did. 

* * *

Clark did arrive before Lex, but just barely. Actually, he was putting away his keys when he heard the squeak of Lex's expensive shoes on the floorboards. 

"That went well, considering the alternative," Lex informed him as he walked into Clark's room. 

Clark said nothing, but simply tossed his coat over the back of the desk chair. He really didn't want to talk to Lex about any of this. In fact, he really didn't want to be here, but Lex hadn't left him with that option. 

He heard Lex sigh from behind him. "How long are you going to keep acting like this, Clark?" 

"Like what?" he snapped as he went to dig out a pair of pajamas from the top drawer. 

"Like a five year old. I'm sorry that you don't want to be here, and I'm sorry that you hate that your mother married my father. I know you hate it that, legally, we're now related, but you know what, Clark? Things won't always go your way." 

"If you're sick of the way I'm acting, then why am I here?" he asked frankly as he shed his pants in favor of pulling the pajama bottoms over his boxers. 

Lex sat down on his bed, not seeming to care about having Clark's permission to do so. "Is there some place else you'd rather be, Clark?" he asked. "Living with your mother and my father, perhaps?" 

"It would be better than being here," he spat out angrily as he pulled off his t-shirt and put on a clean one. He didn't really believe that, but he wanted to say something that would hurt Lex. 

He didn't exactly receive the desired result; Lex just smirked. "Only if you enjoy listening to them having sex through the walls--and I know you'd hear them. Then you can get up in the morning, and you can look at your mother across the table and wonder what my father did to make her scream." 

Clark couldn't help but flinch, because Lex knew far too well which buttons to push. The thought of his mother having sex with Lionel was just not something that Clark wanted to imagine, because it should have always been his dad. Was she even wearing the wedding ring that his dad had given her anymore? Or had that been replaced by Lionel too? 

"Shut up and get out," Clark said simply, his voice dripping with animosity. 

"Actually, I own this house. Telling me to get out isn't going to do anything." 

"You don't want me here, but you won't let me leave. Where's the logic in that?" Clark snapped as he tossed his clothes next to the desk. 

Lex's eyes softened. "I do want you here, but you're not doing yourself any good the way you're acting now." 

"So, what? You're trying to get me to go off the deep end?" 

"No," Lex replied with a wry smile. "I'm trying to get you to realize that hiding all your pain isn't going to help." 

"You're not exactly someone that I want to spill my guts to, Lex," Clark pointed out. How Lex could think that after almost a year of harsh words and fighting, that a few pieces of signed paper that made them officially brothers could make them close--well, it was beyond his comprehension. 

Even so, there was a part of him that wanted to tell Lex everything. Lex, of all people, would probably understand, but pride wasn't letting Clark open up. The problem was that Lex seemed to know that, and he wasn't letting the issue slide. He was regarding Clark's pain in the same way as he'd regarded his secrets--something to be found out and exorcised. 

"I was never the one who called this friendship quits," Lex pointed out, still sitting on Clark's bed. 

"Look, it's past ten o'clock, and I'd really like to go to sleep," Clark informed him with a sigh. It wasn't the truth; he really wasn't tired, but if his excuse got rid of Lex, then he didn't care. 

Lex smiled, though the look was almost complacent. "You might be able to get rid of Lois with lines like that, but you'll find I'm harder to deter." 

"Do you want to know why I stopped being your friend?" Clark asked angrily, standing by the bed. 

"No, I already know that," Lex informed him calmly. "I pushed for your secrets--which, by the way, aren't all that secret anymore--and I put Lana and your family in danger. No, Clark, I understand that." 

"Then why are you still here?" 

Lex only smiled again. "Hurts, doesn't it? When your whole world comes crashing down, and suddenly the people you always depended on aren't solely devoted to you anymore." 

"Get out," Clark whispered venomously. "Now." 

"And you question everything you ever had or did--or anything anyone else did. Was your whole life a lie?" Lex leaned casually back against the pillows of Clark's bed. "Suddenly your perfect family life is under scrutiny, and it hurts." 

"Shut up!" Clark shouted, finally losing it. He'd been rubbed the wrong way long enough. Regardless of his pajamas or his shoeless state, he turned and headed out of the room. There was no noise from behind him as he walked quickly down the hallway to the stairs. 

He needed time to think--time without Lex there to poke at all his vulnerabilities. Lex was examining things that he himself didn't want to delve into. Sometimes it was just easier to keep things buried, but Lex seemed intent on a full excavation. 

Clark wasn't sure he could handle that without going crazy. 

The truth was he had more inner demons than he cared to admit. And, as much as he chastised Lex, he hadn't always made the right moral decisions either. 

As he reached the back door of the mansion, he found himself remembering when Lex's father had drugged Lex to make him forget about Lionel's murder of his parents. He couldn't help but remember that he'd run after he'd stopped Lex from being hit by a car. No matter how he tried to spin it, he'd left Lex to be dragged away. He'd been the one to abandon Lex, after all the times Lex had been there for him. And why? Because he'd let his fear get the best of him. 

There'd also been the time that he'd gone to Lionel to tell him about Lex's memory treatments. He was well aware that his motives were more than Lex's safety. Once again, his fear had been the driving factor. And what was that kind of fear, anyway, if not a selfish emotion? He'd been scared that Lex would find out his secret, and he'd selfishly sacrificed things Lex had cared about to insure that he'd be safe. 

The ground was slightly damp as Clark strayed off the well-cobbled path and onto the lawn. He didn't quite know where he was going, but he just felt he had to get away to somewhere quiet. 

All those things he'd done on red Kryptonite weren't something he was proud of, either. The people that he'd robbed....What right did he have to rebuke Lex about the things he did in his business? 

He'd actually killed his mom's baby, no matter that he'd done so inadvertently. At that thought, he immediately felt tears come to his eyes and then flow down his cheeks, because he'd never, _ever_ gotten over the guilt from that event. 

And what if that baby hadn't been his father's? 

Clark's socks were soaked through with mud by the time he reached the lake behind the mansion. It was the same lake that he'd tossed Sean Kelvin into, and he couldn't help but remember how he'd looked, floating under the ice on the lake bottom. As far as Clark was concerned, that had been his fault too. 

Clark found a dry patch on the ground, and he sat down. The moon was out, and everything was bathed in a sort of ethereal light. It was nice, and Clark thought that it kind of reflected his dark mood. Even better, it was silent, and there was no voice except the one inside his head. 

He was at a complete loss as to what to do. First, he was aware that he had to decide who he could trust. Was Lex on that list? It wasn't lost on him that Lex was practically blackmailing him. Of course, it remained to be seen whether Lex was doing that because he was truly worried about Clark or because he was interested in what made Clark unique. 

Honestly, Lex's intentions scared him. Before his mother's wedding, Lex had gone so far as to even tell him that he wasn't welcome at the mansion. Now, however, he was being forced to live there. It didn't make any sense to him at all, and being unable to understand Lex made Clark nervous. 

Clark pressed his hand down into the new shoots of grass. The new grass reminded him that it was only a little over a month away from his birthday, which would also mark the first anniversary of when he'd seen his father's "ghost" at his grave. 

For the past year, Clark had found himself constantly thinking back, remembering what his father had been doing the previous year. Every holiday that went by, all he was able to think about was how it was his first one without his father. Christmas, especially, had been terribly hard, so much so that it almost hadn't been worth having at all. And Thanksgiving? While he'd put on a brave face, he'd felt like crying the whole time. 

On the day that marked one year since his dad's death, it had been hard to even get out of bed. Only the thought of what his mother would say made him actually get up, and even that had barely been enough. 

Letting a sigh escape his lips, he continued to skim his hands through the new grass until he found a stone. It was smooth under his fingers, nearly perfect. That fact made Clark irrationally angry, because he didn't want to deal with anything perfect at the moment, simply because he felt like his own world was crumbling. 

With a wordless yell of anger and heartache, Clark flung the stone across the lake, watching as it landed nearly on the other shore. He could have thrown it much harder, but the plop that it made in the lake was satisfying. 

"You could try talking about it, you know," a voice said from behind him. 

"Leave me alone," he muttered, not bothering to turn around to look at Lex. He didn't want to see him, didn't want to deal with what he had to say--because often Lex's words drudged up things he didn't want to think about. 

Lex, of course, didn't go away. Clark heard his footsteps as he got closer, and then a blanket was spread down over the ground beside him, as well as another over his shoulders. 

"Interesting place to run to," Lex mused, his voice still calm and unemotional. "But sometimes there's nothing better than just sitting under the stars and not hearing the sounds of civilization." 

"It's even better when all you can hear is your own voice," Clark retorted sullenly. 

Lex chuckled quietly. "Persistent, aren't you?" 

"I've been told it's an admirable quality." 

"It is," Lex assured him. "Though, if you notice, you've condemned me for that very trait." 

Clark stiffened. He knew those words would lead to a conversation he didn't want to have, and, worse, he knew Lex was right. He _had_ condemned Lex for being persistent, and while he knew he had every right to be angry, he also couldn't put aside the tiny voice in his head that kept telling him that if he'd just _told_ Lex.... 

"I've never nearly gotten anyone killed with my persistence," he pointed out caustically. 

Lex sighed heavily. "Clark, I never meant for you to get hurt. And you know the next day? When you were shot and almost died? All I could think about was how, if you'd died, that would have been the last thing we'd said to each other." 

"Things haven't changed, Lex," Clark pointed out. He continued to stare out across the lake, trying to keep himself as detached as possible from the conversation. 

"Yes, they have," Lex murmured, his voice low and deep. "This isn't just about your secrets anymore, Clark, because no matter if you believe me or not, I've always cared more for you personally than for your secrets." 

"I don't believe you," Clark replied. "You were willing to let people that I loved get hurt, just so you could try to find out my secrets." 

"Clark, those men were under strict orders not to harm your family." 

"He threatened to _barbecue_ my family and Lana, Lex," Clark pointed out dryly. 

"But he never _did_." Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw Lex run a hand over his head in a purely frustrated gesture. "Look, Clark, I'm sorry. Your secrets--they don't matter so much anymore." 

"Because you know half of them." 

For a moment no one spoke. It was the first time Clark had ever admitted that he was aware that Lex might know something, instead of just pretending he was completely off base. 

Lex was the first to break the silence. "You're fast, incredibly strong, and I'm fairly certain you can see through things. I know there's more, but I know you won't tell me." 

Clark swallowed, fear closing his throat. To actually hear Lex say it--it scared him. 

"I'm not going to tell anyone, Clark," Lex assured him soothingly. 

Clark finally turned around to face Lex. He was aware that his face held his anger and vulnerabilities, but he'd never been good at hiding his emotions--not like Lex. "If you care so much, Lex, then why have you been so awful to me for the past year? All those little comments, Lana, _everything_." 

Lex watched him solemnly, his face still calm. "Don't I get to be angry, Clark? You lied, and lied, and lied, and then you lied about having lied. There was just so much that wasn't true, and I was tired of it. I was frustrated, and I didn't understand." 

"You didn't understand?" Clark repeated. "You didn't _understand_? Well, then, Lex, _when_ exactly did you _understand_?" he asked sarcastically. 

"When I was in the limo with you. You looked like your whole world had shattered." 

Clark felt a wave of anger wash over him. "Well, hadn't it?!" he snapped. "Damnit, my mother married _your father_ , my dad is dead, you're my brother, and my mom rented out my house! What the hell do I have left?!" 

"You're still you, Clark," Lex said quietly. "And you've still got people who care about you. Your mom--at the moment she might not be making the right decisions, but she cares about you. She does, Clark. She just has her own life now, and that's exciting for her. She's newly remarried, about to experience life again. And you're nearly twenty, Clark. She probably feels like you don't need her so much anymore." 

"She never asked me that. She never asked me about any of this! She just told me that she was engaged, and then everything was happening so fast! I couldn't tell her no, because she was so happy, but just the _thought_ of what Dad would say nearly killed me." 

"Sometimes, Clark, you've got to learn that not everyone is always going to ask you. That's life, and people won't always be considerate. It hurts, yes, but life isn't always going to go the way you want." 

"I don't even know why I try to talk to you," Clark snapped, making a move to rise from the ground. "I'm going to bed." 

"You're not," Lex said, his hand shooting out to grab Clark's wrist. "Sit down, because you're not going to keep running." 

Clark scowled, but a part of him knew Lex was right. It was just that at least in his family life, he'd been used to things working around him. His parents always took his needs and wants into consideration. It hurt that his mother had ignored him, just because it was what made her happy. And, in a way, he felt she'd ignored his Dad in it too, because his father would never have wanted her to marry Lionel Luthor. 

While he knew that Lex wasn't trying to tell him he was a selfish brat, it wasn't pleasant to hear him say things like that. He wasn't saying that his mother shouldn't have consulted him, but he was making it blindingly clear that he wasn't indulging Clark's self-pity. 

So Clark sank down on the blanket next to Lex, mindful that Lex was still holding onto him. Lex moved his hand to Clark's shoulder and pushed down until Clark lay down on his stomach, looking out at the lake. 

Clark jumped a bit when Lex began to gently rub his back. Just comforting strokes, meant to soothe and help him relax. The funny thing was that they did. It made him settle down onto the blanket, somewhat enjoying being pressed against Lex's leg and hip as he stared out over the water. It felt really nice, and he found that he'd missed this type of contact. 

Ever since his mother had taken the state senate job, she hadn't been home much. The time when she had been home had often been spent with Lionel. He didn't actually remember when he'd realized they were dating. It had been more like a slow sort of realization, a thing he hadn't wanted to accept. However, after too many times where she went out to dinner with him, or when she was going to go see a show with him--things that were completely non-work related--he began to realize that, as much as he hated the idea, it was happening. 

Unfortunately, the more time she had for Lionel and a job, the less she had for Clark. While Clark thought that Lex was probably right when he'd said she'd begun to think he could care for himself, it still made him resentful. While he could take care of himself, he'd still needed his mother's support and attention. 

"It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" Lex asked with a small smile. His face was illuminated in the moonlight, almost seeming to glow. 

"Yes," Clark murmured. 

"However, it's still not wise to take off at ten at night to sit on the back of my property." 

"We're in Smallville, Lex," he pointed out. "There's not exactly an astronomical crime rate." 

"Meteor freaks abound, though," he said jokingly. When Clark didn't take the bait, he simply sighed, continuing his methodical rubbing. 

Clark could feel himself relaxing slowly, inch by inch. "You've got to stop running away, Clark," Lex said after a while. 

"I don't run away from my problems," Clark protested darkly. He remembered when his mother had told him that, back when he'd had the problem with Mikail Mxyzptlk. She'd told him that she'd never known him to run away from a problem, right after she found him with Kryptonite in the barn. 

"You never have before, but you certainly are now." 

He had the fierce desire to get up and leave, but he was more than aware that such an action would only confirm Lex's words. "What did you do when your mother died?" he asked finally. "Did you run away from your problems then?" 

"I went home, I got drunk, and then I woke up in the morning and sobbed while I puked my guts out," Lex said bluntly. "It hurt like hell. You handled everything you're your father's death remarkably better than I did." 

"Actually, I almost went out and committed murder." 

Lex's hand stilled for a moment, but then he seemed to think better of it, and he continued stroking. "Murder?" he asked, sounding intrigued. 

"My mom was attacked in Metropolis. I went after her attacker. Found him, too, but I just couldn't go through with it." 

"I remember hearing about your mother being attacked. You didn't do it, though," Lex added, "so you still ended up better off than I did." 

"It really did hurt like hell, though." 

"I tried to call you." 

"I didn't want to talk to you," Clark reminded him. "Actually, that barrier was never dropped. It was more _broken down_ , in the form of you blackmailing me." Clark couldn't quell the bit of resentment that slipped into his voice. 

"I simply told you I'd tell your mother about you getting drunk." 

"Yeah, exactly," Clark muttered. 

For a few moments they sat in silence, Lex still skating his hand up and down Clark's back. Clark found that he'd leaned into it, relaxing into the caress. 

"I want you to go back to college," Lex said after a few minutes. 

"Lex, I don't know--" 

"It's not an option." 

Clark immediately tensed again. "You don't run my life." Suddenly Lex's hand on his back was an invasive feeling. Angrily, he sat up and pushed Lex away. 

Lex let him, his face remaining passive. "I'm not willing to watch you throw your potential away. You don't have the farm to take care of anymore, anyway." 

"I need to get a job." 

Lex laughed bitterly. "Your mother is now married to one of the richest men in the world. If you need it, they'll pay for it." 

"I'm not taking your dad's money." 

"You've got the day tomorrow to go re-enroll yourself in college." 

"I had to sign up at the beginning of a period," he pointed out defensively. "Classes are already in session." 

Lex gave him a lopsided smile. "Then you're lucky that I can pull strings." 

"I'm not using your influence." 

"You never had an issue with using it when we were friends." 

"We're not friends anymore!" Clark snapped at him, getting to his feet. "No matter what this was tonight, you're still experimenting on people, I still know about it, and you're still blackmailing me into living with you! Friends don't act like that." 

Lex stood up as well, taking the blanket with him. "You go down to Kansas Central tomorrow, and you tell them that you want to start classes. They _will_ let you in." 

"I'm not--" 

"You are," Lex corrected him, giving him a look that was pure steel. 

Clark stared back at him, matching him in determination. Unfortunately for him, Lex had that coupled with ammunition. Clark was beginning to think that he'd never screwed up more than he did when he'd got drunk in a place where Lex could see him. 

"I don't want your help, Lex," he said venomously. "I don't want advice from someone experimenting on humans. Level 33.1? Ring a bell?" 

"We're not working on my life, Clark--we're working on yours." 

Before Clark knew what he was doing, his hands were on Lex's chest, shoving him backwards. It broke every rule he'd ever been taught as a child about being careful with his strength, but he was too furious to care. "You can't dismiss me like that," he shouted at Lex. "If you want to tear me down and pick at my indiscretions, then I get to do the same to you." 

"Why?" Lex asked evenly, not looking the least bit phased. "I let you do it for years. You don't like the tables being turned on you?" 

"I want to know what you're after," Clark whispered, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Lex. "Why are you doing this?" 

Lex sighed heavily. "Believe it or not, Clark, I'm trying to help you, and this is the only way I can get you to let me do it. You won't let me in otherwise." 

"I'll start letting you in when you become someone that I can trust again," Clark spat. He didn't want an answer, so he turned around and sped away before Lex could even blink. Even so, in the midst of his fury, he didn't dare actually run away from the mansion. If Lex actually made that one phone call to his mother then he'd have a lot of questions he didn't want to answer. And, whether he liked it or not, Lex clearly knew at least a part of his secret. 

As a result, Clark went back to his room. Very much aware of his sodden pajamas, he changed out of them and slipped into a clean pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt. 

This bed was not his bed, and so it felt strange as he lay in it. There were no lumps in it, which was somehow more uncomfortable than his own familiar mattress. It was just... too perfect. It was sort of like everything else in Lex's house--it lacked the warmth of his childhood home. 

Sleep did not come easily. He tossed and turned in the dark, his anger at Lex still burning strong. He also couldn't push away the shame he felt about what had happened down by the lake. 

He'd almost let Lex in. He had really almost told him things that Lex had no right to know. Besides that, he had allowed Lex to touch him--comfort him even--and he'd let himself like it. In his mind, that was something shameful, because Lex wasn't his best friend anymore, but rather a man to be distrusted. 

Eventually, even with those thoughts, he settled down enough to sleep. He never saw Lex standing in the doorway, watching him sadly. 

* * *

Clark had to work not to scowl when he walked into Kansas Central. It wasn't so much the thought of going back to college, but more that it was the thought of _Lex_ making him go back to college. It hadn't been easy to look the application officer in the face and ask to come back, simply because he was aware that they both knew Lex was the only reason he was able to in the first place. 

Because of Lex, he now had his course schedule in hand. He started Monday, which was five days away. He had a feeling that those days were going to fly by. 

The idea of walking into a classroom and having everyone look at him, fully aware of what was going on his life--it didn't appeal to him. Anyone that read the paper would know, as it wasn't exactly classified information that his mother and Lionel had married. And, by association, anyone who had any sense would realize that the only reason he was allowed to come back in the middle of the year was because he was now--by marriage--a Luthor. 

"Dammit!" he shouted, grabbing the book on his dresser. Furiously, he hurled it at the wall. The muted thumping sound wasn't anywhere near enough to make Clark feel better. 

Slumping down on his bed, he mentally berated himself, knowing that anger wouldn't do any good. Still, it was impossible to suppress the feeling. His life was spinning out of control, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it; anyone would have the right to be angry. 

A knock on his door brought him back to attention. "Go away," he called moodily. There was only one person who actually disturbed him in this house, and he really didn't have the desire to talk to him. 

Lex let himself in anyway. As soon as he was inside the room, Lex's eyes flickered to the book on the floor. "I was wondering what that was," he admitted. He showed no shock whatsoever that Clark had been hurling things at the wall. 

"Now you know, so you can leave." 

"Or I can tell you to get dressed up in something nice." 

"You could tell me that, but it doesn't mean I'll listen," Clark replied, making no move to get off the bed. 

"Not my orders, I'm afraid. Your mother wants us both in Metropolis tonight for a charity ball. Something about trying to become more of a family." 

Clark groaned and rolled over. "I'll call her and tell her I'm not coming." 

"You could," Lex said, feigning disinterest as he sat down on the bed. "But it will worry her. And how many times can you pull that before she actually starts trying to pry into your life?" 

"I've dealt with that all through high school." 

"Mmm, but you never had anything to hide before. And I'm willing to bet that, when she puts her mind to it, she always finds out what she wants to know." 

Clark scowled into his pillow, because what Lex was saying was absolutely true. Perhaps it was a mother's sense, but his mom really had always been able to find out about stuff. And no matter what he told Lex, he really didn't want to deal with that. 

"Like she's not going to notice that something's wrong if I go to the party?" he asked. 

Lex said nothing for a moment, and Clark buried his face back into the pillow. As a result, he never saw Lex until he was beside him, hauling him up and off the bed. "Stop pitying yourself," Lex snapped at him. "Stop thinking about how everything in your life is wrong! Maybe, if you got off your ass, something would go  <i>right</i>." 

Clark wanted badly to hit him, but from childhood it had been drilled into him never to hit someone with his strength. _Always be gentle_ , he remembered his father saying. And, while shoving Lex off of him might not have been exactly gentle, it was nicer than rearranging his face. 

"My life is going to be what _I_ want it to be," he seethed. "Not what you choose, not what my mom chooses. I don't want to be told where to live, where to go to school, or what I'm doing on any given night. I want you to get off my back and let me make my own decisions!" 

"You're making the wrong ones," Lex replied simply. "You've always had a problem with dealing with grief, and that trend is holding true now. Remember when your mom lost the baby? You think I don't know what you did that summer, simply because I was on an island? There are things called security tapes, Clark, and believe me, I saw enough to know most of what you did. As you admitted, you almost killed someone after your dad died. You don't let anyone help you, so you end up doing something destructive." 

"I didn't kill anyone!" Clark protested angrily. 

"You came close," Lex replied, silencing him. "And while I don't think you're capable of murder, you are capable of other things. Stealing, blowing up cop cars--" 

"How the hell do you know that?!" Clark shouted. 

"I knew where you were after viewing some tapes in clubs. I know your build, and I was looking for the guy wearing the mask to be you--the police didn't have you as a suspect. It was easy to compare your build to that man's, and since they match exactly, it wasn't hard to figure out. Those robberies? The metal on the ATMs was punched out. After I realized that you'd taken all those bullets and hadn't died, it wasn't much of a stretch to make that connection." 

Clark was left staring at Lex, breathing hard. He'd never wanted to hit someone so much in his life. To think that Lex knew all of that about him--it made him feel sick. 

"I wasn't myself." 

"I'm well aware that you were probably taking some kind of drug. However, that was still your decision." 

"I'd prefer not to have a lecture on that, from you of all people." 

For a moment Lex just looked at him... and then it just seemed as if he snapped. Before Clark could process, Lex was grabbing him again, hauling him towards the closet. Clark was aware that he could have stopped him at any time, but it was ingrained in him not to display his strength, and he didn't consciously realize that he was holding himself back until he was standing in the walk-in closet. 

"I'd love to know what gives you a right to judge me," Lex said angrily. "What makes you think that you can call me on my lies? Because you know what, Clark? You lie just as much as I do." 

"I lie for different reasons!" Clark protested. His breath nearly vanished from his lungs when Lex's hands went to the buttons of his shirt, beginning to methodically undo them. He knew he could have pulled away, but something stopped him from doing so. 

"You lie to protect yourself, yes. I get that, Clark, I really do. But you have no reason to lie to me anymore. I know your secrets." His fingers left Clark's buttons in favor of reaching for a shirt that was hanging up on a rack that stretched the length of the wall. 

Clark was about to tell Lex that he didn't know all of his secrets, but he quickly shut his mouth again. 

Lex only smirked. "I'm well aware I don't know all your secrets, Clark," he said, as if reading Clark's mind. "Get your pants off." 

Huh, that just sounded like way too much of an invitation. It made him shiver, and what really scared him was that he wasn't quite sure he was adverse to it. He'd always known that he'd liked girls, but there had been times with Lex... At the time he'd convinced himself that it was simply admiration for his older, smarter friend, and that it was perfectly normal. 

So, feeling insecure, his best defense was a barbed comment. "Do you feel the need to stand there while I undress?" Clark asked bitingly 

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Lex countered, clearly not planning on leaving. 

"No," Clark replied, his annoyance clear, his lie even clearer. 

The corner of Lex's mouth turned upwards in a tiny half-mocking smile. "Good, because I wasn't planning on leaving." 

Clark turned away from Lex, feeling a blush heat his cheeks. This hadn't been so difficult when Lex had come to stay with his family for those few days he'd been kicked out of the mansion--the ones where Lucas Luthor had come to town. He'd changed in front of Lex then, so why was now so different? 

The rustle of clothing behind him let him know that Lex wasn't exclusively watching him, and it was somehow easier to strip off his pants knowing that. Still, he shouldn't be embarrassed at all. He'd undressed in a _locker room_ before, after all. 

"Put those on," Lex said emotionlessly, handing Clark a pair of black pants. 

Clark did, eager to be covered again. Boxer's really didn't leave much to the imagination. 

"Shirt," Lex added, holding one out. It was perfectly ironed, rich blue in color, and--if Clark wasn't very much mistaken--it was also silk. Curiosity made him wonder what it would feel like to wear silk, so he took it and slipped it on. It was nice against his skin, and he liked it. 

Almost immediately, he felt guilty. How could be enjoying this? He shouldn't be enjoying this new life at all, because he didn't deserve to. If he hadn't gotten killed, if Jor-El hadn't brought him back, and if his dad hadn't died because of him, then he wouldn't have this new life. He had no right to appreciate it. 

"I don't like it," Clark said immediately, trying to keep his face emotionless. "I'll find something else." 

Lex sighed, catching his Clark's wrist as he reached to take the shirt off. "It's all right to enjoy things, Clark. You don't need to feel guilty for liking parts of this life." 

He knew he should probably have come up with a scathing retort, but all he could manage to feel was a sense of sadness. "I shouldn't have any of this. If I hadn't--if my dad hadn't died--" 

"Do you think he'd want you to be miserable?" Lex asked, letting his wrist go. With utmost care, he began to do up the buttons on Clark's shirt. 

Clark sighed, but didn't push Lex away. "He just shouldn't be dead. He should be alive, and I should be working on the farm with him." 

"So you think that because he couldn't have gotten clothing like this for you, you shouldn't have this?" 

Clark only shrugged. Lex finished with the buttons and calmly ran his hands over Clark's shoulders, smoothing away any potential wrinkles. "That's not what your father would have wanted," Lex told him as he moved away from Clark to go to the tie rack. He eyed the colors for a moment before selecting a bow tie of a solid black color. 

"How the hell would you know?!" Clark demanded, his former hostility returning. "He told me lots of times that I shouldn't accept gifts from you! He always said the Luthor money came from cheating people out of their house and home!" 

Lex's eyes darkened a shade, but Clark knew that for the moment that was the only glimpse he was going to get of Lex's anger. "Would he want you to force yourself to be miserable? It's not wrong to be happy, Clark." 

A strange emotion bubbled up in his chest, almost making him ache. It _was_ wrong for him to be happy, because he was the reason his father was dead. Suddenly, he had the overwhelming urge to let Lex know--to let him know he didn't deserve to be happy--and to let him know _why_. "His life was exchanged for mine! I didn't want it to happen, but that's the only reason I came back! I never had the choice!" 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He'd have to explain that statement sooner or later, because Lex wasn't going to let it go. And to do that, he'd have to tell Lex all about the fortress and Jor-El, as well as rising from the dead. 

However, there was some satisfaction in seeing that he'd apparently thrown Lex for a loop, if the slightly confused look on his face was any indication. "His life was exchanged for yours?" 

Clark nodded miserably, well aware that there was really no way around telling Lex what he wanted to know. "I--Lex, do you think that I'm one of those people that was affected by the meteor rocks?" 

Lex looked at him in an assessing way for a moment, but then finally just shook his head. "No, I don't. I've known from the moment I realized you were affected by the green rocks that you weren't from this world." 

Clark flinched as though an unexpected blow had been landed. He'd always hated it when someone put things so bluntly, because all of his life he'd wanted to fit in. To hear someone candidly say that he wasn't human--that he wasn't from this world--made him want to protest, even though it was perfectly true. 

"How?" he said faintly. He'd always thought he'd been so careful about hiding his secret, but if Lex had discovered it, then who else might have as well? 

"After the second meteor shower, Lana found out that only pieces of the aliens' home world could hurt them. Thinking Milton Fine an alien, I tried to use the rock on him. It didn't work, obviously, but he did let me know that if he'd been an alien it would have. As soon as I realized the rock affected you, it all came together." 

Clark swallowed hard. Lex knew... well, more than he'd realized. Yet Lex hadn't used it. Given that Clark was still pretty sure he had a Level 33.1, that didn't make sense. Why wasn't he strapped down to a table by now? And why hadn't Lex hurt him over the past year when they'd been fighting? 

"My biological father--he's not alive, but there's an AI of him--never asked me if I wanted to be brought back to life. I just remember being shot and falling down on the road, a few brief flashes of the hospital, and then waking up. He told me that the price of my life was that someone I cared about would be sacrificed. I tried to get him not to bring me back, but he'd already done it." 

"So you think that's your fault?" Lex asked incredulously. "It sounds as if it's your biological father's fault to me." 

"I got myself shot in the first place!" Clark protested. He didn't know why he was so eager to convince Lex that everything was his fault, but he almost felt as though he couldn't handle it if he didn't succeed in doing so. If he was going to tell Lex everything, then Lex had to at least understand. 

"And what were you doing at the time?" 

"Chloe and I were trying to stop a guy from blowing up Smallville. You know--that whole missile crisis." 

Lex laughed bitterly. "Oh, I remember that, yes. And because you were trying to save a town and accidentally got shot, you now blame yourself for your father's death? If you hadn't stopped that boy, then we'd all be dead! Clark, you saved lives." 

Clark shook his head furiously, willing Lex to understand. Lex only sighed and reached up, holding the black tie. "Hold still," he ordered. Clark did, letting him loop the tie around his neck and knot it securely. Once he was done and had stepped away, Clark tucked in his shirt and accepted the black suit coat that Lex handed him. 

"Fitted suits look good on you, Clark," Lex said, his voice low. The way Lex's eyes seemed to be taking in all of Clark made Clark feel as though he were being given a once-over. Of course, there was that possibility. When he was younger he'd hoped that Lex really had been checking him out. Now... well, now he didn't know what he hoped for. 

"Personally," Lex said as he turned toward the door, "I think you're doing your father more of a disservice by not moving on from his death then you were by inadvertently getting him killed. You tell me that I didn't know him well enough to understand what he would think, but I'm fairly certain that even you'll have a hard time denying that he wouldn't want his son miserable." He gave Clark a slight nod. "Be downstairs in ten minutes." 

Clark was left standing alone, Lex's words swirling in his head. 

* * *

"Clark!" Clark's mother's warm voice rang out across the room as she hurried over to embrace him. She looked beautiful in her black evening gown with her hair twisted above her head in an elaborate array. But looking at her, Clark didn't think she looked like his mother--not the woman that had raised him. 

The woman that had raised him had worn T-shirts and jeans and had still looked beautiful. She hadn't always had this elaborate make-up job, but instead she'd had flour smeared on her face, courteously of all the baking she'd done. Clark had loved that when he was younger, because it had given him a chance to laugh and tease his mother. She'd always laughed with him, reaching out to smear flour on his face as well. For him, it had been a time of family. 

His mother wrapped her arms around him, and he automatically embraced her back. She smelled nice, too, but it was different from the perfumes she'd always worn before. Before, she'd worn the perfumes his father had gotten her for Christmas. That perfume had been the smell he'd associated with home. Now, she was clearly wearing something very expensive. 

The scent of home was gone, and he felt as if his home life had vanished with it. 

"Honey, are you all right?" 

Clark nodded against her shoulder. "Yeah, Mom," he assured her. 

"Clark Kent, I'm your mother, and I want the truth," she said sternly. Her face softened as she raised a hand to cup his cheek. "Sweetie, you don't look all right." 

The sound of doors opening and Lex and Lionel walking in interrupted them. Lex looked aggravated and seemed to be wishing he were somewhere else. On the other hand, Lionel looked perfectly receptive, a jovial smile lighting up his face. 

"Clark, don't you look dashing," he said with a polite nod. "I see that the clothes your mother picked out for you fit well." 

Clark flinched, unable to help himself. To know that his mother had picked out these clothes made him feel horrible. His mother was--well, his _mom_. Given the situation, she should have known the clothes would upset him." 

"Remember when I picked out your clothes for you?" his mother said with a warm smile as she brushed a piece of lint off him. "You never matched if I didn't!" 

Everyone except Lex laughed, so Clark refrained from stating that Lex had picked out his attire. Or maybe he should have, just to watch their faces fall and to observe their fumbling recovery. It wasn't nice, and he knew that, but it might have made him feel at least a bit less resentful. 

"Shouldn't we be going downstairs?" Martha said after she and Lionel stopped chuckling. 

Lionel checked his watch. "I suppose we should," he agreed. "Oh, by the way, Lex, there's a room booked for you and Clark at the hotel down the street--you know the one, right?" 

Lex nodded. "The one you bought six months ago?" he asked dryly. 

Lionel smirked. "It's easier to put guests up there than at the penthouse now," he said with a glance at Martha. 

His mother blushed, and Clark felt sick. He didn't want to hear anything that had to do with their sex life. He was actually beginning to think he made the right choice living with Lex, because he wasn't sure he could have handled listening to his mother and Lionel having sex just a few rooms away. 

No one seemed to notice his feelings, except for Lex, who was looking at him with a guarded look that Clark knew meant that he was thinking hard. When he was younger, he'd received that look from Lex so many times that he'd know it anywhere. Strangely, he found that he almost missed it, because it had at least let him know that Lex cared. 

His mother took Clark's arm, guiding him towards the door that he knew would take them downstairs. Looking at his mother, it suddenly hit him that she seemed as if she belonged in this world. She knew how to act, what to wear, where to go. She had been raised in Metropolis, he recalled, and his grandfather had been rich. It would make sense that she knew how to act in high society. 

With that thought came the realization that he was the only one who didn't know what he was doing here. He had no idea how to behave at a party, and he'd never been good at making small talk. The thought of having to pretend to like rich people he'd never met _really_ didn't appeal to him. 

His mother released his arm as they descended some stairs and reached a large set of doors. Clark could only assume that those doors would open to the main room, and he felt his discomfort multiplying ten-fold. Lex's comment at the wedding--the one about how his inconspicuous life was over--popped back into his head. Was that really true? Were eyes always going to be on him from now on? 

Lionel smiled as Martha hooked her arm through his, looking up at him with a loving smile. Clark bristled when he saw it--that was the smile she'd given his father for so many years. It never--never--should have been directed at Lionel. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Lex. "Don't mention anyone's businesses unless you're intending to give a compliment," Lex said quietly, moving up beside him. "Mentioning how lovely the women look is fine, as long as you don't act like you're trying to get in their pants." 

"I've seen you break both those rules," Clark pointed out dryly. 

Lex gave him a small smirk. "That's my game, Clark, but it's not one that you should play." 

Clark had to agree. Lex had been raised from birth to do this, but he'd been thrust into it. This kind of thing just wasn't in his personality. 

Lionel opened the door for Martha, and Clark was suddenly hit with the noise of the party. Through the door he could see many people, all of them beautifully dressed, all of them looking as if they belonged. Music floated in the air, and Clark caught sight of people dancing. 

Only sheer force of will got him through that door. If anything, he would have preferred to have turned and run, but he knew that was simply not an option. Lex's watchful presence at his side almost cemented that, at least by letting him know that Lex was aware of his desire to leave. 

Heads turned when they entered the room, but Clark supposed it was more out of curiosity than anything else. Everyone wanted to see the daughter-of-a-Metropolis-lawyer-turned-farmwife that Lionel had married. Knowing that she'd been part of the Metropolis life at one point, Clark didn't think the people here would be so skeptical of her ability to fit in to this scene, but he didn't think that they'd be quite so receptive towards him. He was just that woman's son, raised on a farm by her and her farmer husband. 

"I could use a drink," Lex said wryly. "You could too, probably, but you'll have to wait until we get back to the motel." 

Clark only nodded grimly. Was there a coatroom that he could go hide in? He made a move to head away from Lex in search of it. 

Lex's hand shot out to grab his arm. "Where are you going?" he asked sharply, his eyes narrowing. 

"In search of a coatroom to hide in," he said simply. 

Lex laughed. "There are still people in the coatroom, Clark, just less of them. It's a little less overwhelming, but the people there are often more invasive. Believe me; I know this from experience." 

Clark only sighed. "Then what do you expect me to do?" 

"Just stay with me for now. Hopefully we can avoid the reporters." 

"Why are you doing this?" Clark asked, half curious and half annoyed. 

"Doing what, Clark?" Lex replied, though his lips curved into a small smile that gave Clark the distinct impression that he knew all too well what was being referred to. 

"Any of this--taking care of me, I guess." 

Lex only smiled a little more, something halfway between a mysterious smile and a smirk. "Who else is going to?" 

It struck Clark as odd that it really was that simple. No one else would help him--his mother was preoccupied; Lionel was _Lionel_ ; Chloe would try, but she wouldn't understand; and Lois had the sensitivity of a stick. 

"We've been fighting for months, and suddenly it all just changes?" 

"Would you prefer it didn't?" Lex asked evasively, the sparkling in his eyes telling Clark that he was well aware that he was avoiding the question. 

"I didn't say that," Clark said in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "I just want to know _why_." 

Lex merely looked at him for a moment, emotion barely visible on his face, though it was completely indiscernible to Clark. "Because, Clark," he said slowly, obviously choosing his words carefully, "I never stopped caring about you." 

That left Clark strangely wordless. It didn't make much sense either, given all the jabs and biting comments, but then again, Lex's idea of caring sometimes didn't make a lot of sense. Even so, it was sometimes more powerful than a normal person's emotion, because if Lex cared about you, he'd move mountains to make sure you weren't harmed. 

When Clark finally found his voice, he managed to say, "I'm twenty years old, Lex; I don't need someone to take care of me." 

Clark had expected anger, but Lex's face only softened. "But someone always has, Clark, and now wouldn't be the time for you to start learning to do without." 

The validity of that statement hit hard, and it forced Clark to think about things that he didn't want to. Lex was right: someone always had been there to take care of him. Everyone in his life had always made sure that he'd had everything that he needed. He'd never really had to take care of himself before, and Lex was correct in saying that now was not the time to start. 

"Fancy seeing you here, Smallville." 

The sharp female voice startled Clark out of his thoughts. He turned around to see Lois standing before him, looking beautiful in a long evening gown. Her hair was curled so that it fell attractively over her shoulders. If Clark hadn't known what her personality was like, he might have gone back for a second look. Of course, she was obviously also a bit drunk, though Clark wasn't really surprised. 

"Lois," he greeted, not sure whether he was pleased to see her or not. He felt Lex stiffen beside him, but he wasn't entirely sure why. 

"Apparently you _can_ take the boy off the farm," she said with a grin as she eyed Clark's suit. 

Lex's less than warm reception all made sense a moment later when Oliver Queen appeared at Lois's side. "Clark," he said fairly warmly, adding a much cooler, "Lex," almost as an afterthought. "How's high society life treating you?" he asked Clark. 

Clark shrugged. "I guess I prefer my privacy." 

Oliver laughed. "You get used to it after a while." With another laugh, he inclined his head towards Lex. "You should ask Lex about the time he got cornered by Perry White at boarding school." The way his eyes flashed slightly when he spoke let Clark know that the comment wasn't something Lex would probably like answering. 

Ignoring Oliver's suggestion, he asked, "So, bringing Lois along tonight? Has she managed to offend anyone yet?" 

"Funny, Smallville," Lois said sarcastically. "Actually, I'm surprised you managed to get that tie on all by yourself, given that I had to help you at your graduation." 

Clark only shrugged. "People learn new things." It wasn't as if she had to know that he hadn't tied it himself. 

"Yeah, speaking of which, how's life been living with your mom and her new husband?" 

"He's not," Oliver cut in with a glance at Lex. "He's living with Lex." 

Lois's eyes widened for a moment and then she simply laughed. "Never saw that one coming. Weren't you two at each other's throats just the other day?" 

"You know, it really doesn't surprise me that you have a job at the Inquisitor," Lex cut in, his tone biting, "given how good you are at prying in to other people's lives." 

"That's what friends do," she replied, her tone equally harsh. "Because they care." 

Oliver was watching the interaction with what could almost be described as confusion. Clark, too, didn't really understand why Lex and Lois had always seemed to dislike each other so much. Had there been some conversation between the two in the past that he wasn't aware of? 

"Is that an insinuation or simply a well-placed barb?" Lex asked with mild amusement. 

Lois gave him a noncommittal look. "However you want to take it. I just know that you never do anything without a reason." 

"Lois, I think that maybe you've had a little too much champagne," Oliver said quietly. "Maybe we should go." 

"Why, Ollie? It's about time someone told him the truth!" 

Oliver glanced quickly at Lex. Lex was still staring stoically at Lois, who was glaring back with fire in her eyes. "You think I'm trying to get something out of Clark?" 

"I know you are. I've been in Smallville since his senior year, back when you were apparently still friends. It was always about his secrets then, and it still is now." 

"All right, Lois, let's go," Oliver finally said firmly, taking her by the arm and pulling her away. He offered no word of apology, but his embarrassed expression was enough. 

"If it's any consolation, she drives me crazy too," Clark admitted. 

"You have no idea," Lex murmured venomously, watching Lois and Oliver retreat. 

"What did you say to her to make her hate you so much?" Clark asked curiously. 

"I just told her she was a muffin peddling drop out," he admitted dryly. "I believe that she was the one who just told me that the truth hurt." 

Clark laughed quietly. "I wish you'd gotten it on film! Her face must have been priceless." 

Lex gave him a small smile. "It was good," he agreed as he snagged a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter offered him. Taking a sip of it, he sighed and said, "We should at least mingle. It's bad for business if we stand off in the corner like this." 

"Uh, you go mingle and I'll stay here," Clark corrected him. 

"You can't avoid it forever, Clark," Lex told him, although if Clark wasn't mistaken, there was a trace of sympathy in his words. "It won't be that bad, just try not to say more than you have to." 

Reluctantly, Clark allowed Lex to lead him back into the crowd, all the while thinking that this really wasn't how he wished he were spending his night. 

* * *

After multiple conversations with many irritating socialites, Clark found himself in the passenger seat of Lex's Porsche, watching as the street lights went by. Metropolis was pretty at night, Clark decided, though it still felt big, almost as though it were going to swallow him whole. 

"Not too bad for your first time, Clark," Lex said as he shifted gears after having stopped for a red light. "You had a number of young ladies looking as though they were willing to get to know you more... _intimately_." 

Clark turned away from the window to face him, trying not to blush at the innuendo. "I guess. The thing with Lois was a bit of a turnoff, though." 

"Oliver wasn't lying when he said that she'd had a few too many glasses of champagne." 

"She's not really a bad person," Clark tried to convince him. "She's just, well--her manners are kind of lacking." 

"Drastically," Lex agreed dryly. Falling silent, he pulled the car off the road and into the entrance of a very large and expensive looking hotel. "Your father bought this?" Clark asked, having a bit of trouble believing it. "Just so he could put guests up here so he could have the penthouse for just my mother and himself?" 

"Some would call it an extravagance, but my father would simply call it a wise investment." 

Clark followed Lex as he got out of the car, watching as Lex handed his keys to a man that was apparently going to park the car. Clark was actually somewhat surprised Lex trusted him to do that, though he supposed that Lex had enough cars so that it wouldn't really matter if one got wrecked. 

"Here, take this," Lex directed Clark, handing him his suitcase. 

Clark did, following him to the door. It irked him to do that, because lately he felt as if his whole life was revolving around following Lex. Everything he did seemed to be directly related to Lex, and he wasn't sure that he liked that. What Lois had said still echoed in his head. Did Lex really have an ulterior motive? Or was he truly trying to help? 

Upon entering the building, someone took their luggage for them, putting it on what Clark decided to call the luggage rack. There was probably a fancy name for it, but he'd never heard it, and so that was just easier. 

"Hello," Lex said automatically once he'd reached the front desk. "'Luthor' should be the reservation." 

The pretty blond woman typed something into the computer in front of her. Seeming to get the confirmation she sought, she nodded and handed Lex a small packet. "Suite 18, and someone will take your luggage up," she said politely. "Have a nice stay." 

"Thank you," Lex said, fishing a card out of the small packet and handing it to Clark. "Don't lose that." 

"Thanks," he muttered as he accepted it. 

Lex gestured to the man who had taken their luggage. The man quickly moved forward, following them to the elevator. Once everyone was in, Lex pushed the up button. 

They all remained silent while the elevator went up, and even after the doors opened there was still no conversation. Only once they had reached the door of the room, and Lex had used the card to get them inside, did anyone say anything. 

"Thank you," Lex said as he took the bags from the man. Clark took his bag as well before turning and heading into the room beyond. 

He hadn't quite expected the scene that met him. Instead of just a single bedroom--what he'd thought all hotels had--he was met with a huge room that housed a kitchen nook, along with a table, and a sunken living room, complete with a large couch and a TV. Beyond that was a door that Clark assumed led to a bedroom. 

"Only one bedroom," Lex said cynically from where he was standing behind Clark. "Your mom and my father probably thought we could have some good old-fashioned bonding time." Going to the door of the bedroom and glancing inside, he added, "There's two beds, though." 

"That's generous," Clark muttered, sinking down on the couch. 

Lex came to join him a moment later. Looking at him as he sat down, Clark realized that he looked tired. He'd never actually bothered to wonder if maybe this marriage had taken a toll on Lex as well. 

"Are you all right?" he asked after a second of watching Lex. 

"I've been better," Lex admitted, "but I'm sure you understand the feeling." 

"Anything you want to talk about?" Clark prompted tentatively. 

Lex laughed bitterly. "No." 

"You didn't give me that option." Clark actually felt annoyed about that. Why should Lex get to be able to withhold his feelings if Clark didn't? 

"I didn't allow myself to get caught completely shit-faced, either," Lex reminded him bluntly. "And if I did, I doubt I'd much care whether you told my father." 

A spark of anger seemed to ignite a fire in Clark's chest. "If you'd respected my privacy and hadn't just walked in, then it never would have happened!" Lex had always pushed, had never respected boundaries, and it didn't appear that he was going to start now. 

"Oh, you misunderstand me," Lex said with a laugh. "I'm not regretful that I caught you drunk--I'm actually happy that I got that as leverage." 

Before Clark knew what he was doing, he'd picked Lex up off the couch and had slammed him up against the wall. He felt as though he were on such a short fuse lately that anything would set him off, and this was no exception. He just wanted Lex to _shut up_ and stop being hypocritical. 

"Is what Lois says true?!" he demanded, finally divulging the thing that had been bothering him all evening. "Are you really just after my secrets?! Do you care about me at all? Or are you just after what I have to offer?!" Clark demanded, giving Lex a rough shake. 

Lex smiled, thin lipped and unhappily. "Oh, Clark, you have no idea how much I want what you have to offer, though not in the way you think." 

Clark loosened his grip, thrown for a loop. What else could Lex possibly want? What else did he have to offer if not his powers? 

His question was answered a moment later when Lex took advantage of his slackened grip to spin _Clark_ around and shove _him_ up against the wall. "I've wanted what you have to offer nearly from the moment I met you, Clark," he said harshly. 

Clark was taken completely by surprise with the kiss that followed. The press of lips against his own was hard and hungry and so very, very demanding. Lex's hand was up and under his suit jacket, pulling his shirt loose in a frenzied and desperate attack. 

Clark hadn't realized he was kissing back until a moment later when Lex's tongue invaded his mouth. Like the beginning kiss, it was hot and hungry, trying to map every aspect of Clark's mouth at once. Clark hadn't known kissing could feel so _good_. 

And when had his hands snuck up under Lex's coat? It felt nice, though--really, really nice, actually. There was very smooth skin under that shirt, and if he could just get the damn clothing out of the way then he could reach it. That shirt had to go, because he wanted to touch so badly. 

The buttons of his suit coat were being unfastened and a moment later his arms were being yanked out of it. Lex briefly broke their kiss to do so, his mouth instead moving down to Clark's neck where he began to bite and suck in a way that caused Clark to moan loudly. 

"Yeah, just like that..." Clark gasped. 

Lex's nimble fingers worked the buttons of Clark's shirt until it was undone, bow tie being cast aside with it. As soon as the shirt was gone, Lex's hands were all over him, touching his chest as if Lex wasn't ever going to get enough. Clark thought that made sense, because he wasn't sure he was ever going to either, and suddenly he realized that Lex was wearing entirely too many clothes. 

His fingers felt like wet noodles as he tried to get Lex's suit coat off. When faced with all of those small little buttons going down Lex's shirt--he just didn't have the time to worry about them. One yank and they were all off, flying across the floor. 

Lex didn't seem to be overly concerned about his ruined clothing, as he just shrugged away the remnants of the shirt and pulled Clark away from the wall, starting a new kiss at the same time. Clark had to bend down slightly to maintain the kiss as they moved, but he couldn't have broken it if he'd tried. 

Lex's hands were firm on his hips as he was pushed through the bedroom door. They broke the kiss after a few more steps, and Lex smiled sexily as he gave Clark's chest a light shove. The shove pushed him backwards so that the back of his knees hit a bed, and he was abruptly on his back, staring up at Lex. 

"I've waited a long time to have you like this," Lex muttered, his voice low and deep, and really far too sexy for Clark to take. 

His fingers were slow, almost teasing as his hands went to Clark's belt. Just looking at Lex undressing him made him feel like he was going to come, so he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, just letting the sounds take him. 

The whistle of a belt going through its loops met his ears, and he arched his hips up to make it easier. The press of Lex's fingers against his thighs, holding him down, made him moan slightly, because he'd never felt like this before. 

He'd never known it was possible to feel like this. 

It got even better when Lex dexterously undid the button on his pants. The way he slid a hand under Clark's lower back and lifted him up so that he could slip the pants off--it nearly made Clark beg him to go faster. Clark didn't beg, though, and when he got himself under control enough to realize what was happening, all he felt was just a quick breeze of air, and then the awareness that he was lying there in his boxers. 

There was no way he could hide what he was feeling now. 

"That for me?" Lex's voice rumbled from above him. 

Clark didn't think his vocal cords would work properly so he just nodded. Feeling the need to accentuate the point, he bucked his hips upward into the air, just slightly. 

There was more rustling of clothing and then Lex was back. A quick peek let him see that Lex was completely naked. Huh, apparently Lex was only bald on his head. 

Boxers were slipped down past his hips, and Clark realized that he was fully naked. He shifted a little, giving a small sigh when the comforter on his back rubbed against his naked body. Perhaps he should try sleeping naked if it felt this nice. 

"Open your eyes and look at me." 

Clark obeyed, never thinking twice about it. When he did, he was met with Lex's face, inches from his as he lay on the bed beside Clark. Clark couldn't help it: he smiled. 

Lex gave him a small smile back, but Clark could still see the reservations on his face. "You want this?" he asked after a small pause, reaching out, letting his hand brush curls of dark hair out of Clark's eyes. 

Clark only smiled a little more and reached up to grab Lex's hand, giving a small lick to his wrist. "Yes," he answered, and he realized he'd probably never being so truthful before. Tomorrow he'd think of all the reasons why this wasn't a good idea, but tonight belonged to them. 

That seemed to be what Lex was waiting for, because he leaned in and captured Clark's mouth again. His hands were everywhere at once and Clark felt as if his nerve endings were alive with pleasure. He never wanted to be without that feeling again. 

* * *

Later, Clark asked Lex why he'd been carrying lube with him. Lex merely replied that he always did, and in the months to follow, Clark would find that to be the truth. Eventually, they talked about how it felt when Lex had moved inside Clark for the first time. And when Lex would tell Clark how absolutely delightful he looked when he came, shouting Lex's name, Clark would flush and give him a small smile. 

Only later would they discuss how that night had changed everything. Months after, they looked back and realized that what they'd needed was each other. Clark had craved feeling as though he were cared about and needed; Lex had wanted to know that someone had faith in him. 

They would curl up in bed, at times in Smallville and at times in Metropolis, and they'd simply talk about how things had turned out. They discussed how Lex had always been the one that everyone had thought needed a savior and how wrong everyone had been: they'd both needed to be saved. 

In the end, they talked about how they saved each other. 

They didn't talk much that night, though. And when they fell asleep, surrounded by expensive sheets and blankets, Clark was curled up against Lex's side, a small contented smile on his face. For the first time in months, his sleep was pure and undisturbed, his mind at rest. 


End file.
